stand or thole."

"What do I do wrong?" said Ruth; "I try to do all I can."

"Yes, in a way," said Sally, puzzled to know how to describe her
meaning. "Thou dost it--but there's a right and a wrong way of
setting about everything--and to my thinking, the right way is to
take a thing up heartily, if it is only making a bed. Why! dear ah
me, making a bed may be done after a Christian fashion, I take it,
or else what's to come of such as me in heaven, who've had little
enough time on earth for clapping ourselves down on our knees for
set prayers? When I was a girl, and wretched enough about Master
Thurstan, and the crook on his back which came of the fall I gave
him, I took to praying and sighing, and giving up the world; and
I thought it were wicked to care for the flesh, so I made heavy
puddings, and was careless about dinner and the rooms, and thought I
was doing my duty, though I did call myself a miserable sinner. But
one night, the old missus (Master Thurstan's mother) came in, and
sat down by me, as I was a-scolding myself, without thinking of what
I was saying; and, says she, 'Sally! what are you blaming yourself
about, and groaning over? We hear you in the parlour every night,
and it makes my heart ache.' 'Oh, ma'am,' says I, 'I'm a miserable
sinner, and I'm travailing in the new birth.' 'Was that the reason,'
says she, 'why the pudding was so heavy to-day?' 'Oh, ma'am, ma'am,'
said I, 'if you would not think of the things of the flesh, but
trouble yourself about your immortal soul.' And I sat a-shaking my
head to think about her soul. 'But,' says she, in her sweet-dropping
voice, 'I do try to think of my soul every hour of the day, if by
that you mean trying to do the will of God, but we'll talk now about
the pudding; Master Thurstan could not eat it, and I know you'll be
sorry for that.' Well! I was sorry, but I didn't choose to say so,
as she seemed to expect me; so says I, 'It's a pity to see children
brought up to care for things of the flesh;' and then I could have
bitten my tongue out, for the missus looked so grave, and I thought
of my darling little lad pining for want of his food. At last, says
she, 'Sally, do you think God has put us into the world just to be
selfish, and do nothing but see after our own souls? or to help one
another with heart and hand, as Christ did to all who wanted help?'
I was silent, for, you see, she puzzled me. So she went on, 'What
is that beautiful answer in your Church cat